


If The Sky Comes Falling Down

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst and Feels, Anxiety, Caretaking, Caring, Confusion, Dreams and Nightmares, Empathy, Explanations, Family Bonding, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Medical Examination, Medical Procedures, Mid-Canon, Multiple Selves, Nightmares, Questions, Soul Bond, Worry, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-09
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-24 03:53:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15621963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Jameson explores the ins and outs of his bond with Chase and what it means to the both of them in the long run.





	If The Sky Comes Falling Down

Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to be something he could stop, Jameson noticed—nor was it becoming any less potent. His awareness of it was only growing distinct; as soon as it happened, everything else in the world seemed to fade, leaving him with nothing but these sensations to fixate on. He had asked about it before, during his monthly examination with the doctor.

“How is the little heart beating, hmm?” Dr. Schneeplestein prompted, neatly untucking Jameson’s shirt hem from the band of his slacks so he could slide his stethoscope underneath it.

 **“My ticker’s just dandy, doc,”**  he assured him, pausing for half a moment before adding an uncertain shrug.  **“Most of the time, at least.”**

Eyebrows arching, Schneep glanced up from his work with a tilted head. “What do you mean by that?”

 **“Well, it’s…I have a peculiar case of touch-and-go. It’s difficult to place,”** the gentleman explained, scuffing his feet back and forth as he swung his legs over the side of the medical bed.  **“Every so often, even when I’m having a good day and there’s nothing to fear, I stop suddenly and everything changes. My heart starts a-pounding and it feels as if the ground is swerving out from under me…I’m not panicking, though, I just feel…worry. I feel there’s something I need to do, someone I need to go to so I can help them.”**

As he was speaking, Jameson hadn’t noticed yet that the doctor had stilled, his stethoscope limp and unused in his hands. His expression was unreadable unless someone was looking very closely; if they had, they would have seen the barest hint of a smile around his eyes.

“Who do you need to find when you feel this?” he questioned.

Hunching his shoulders, Jameson swung his legs just a bit farther, forcing Schneep to skirt aside so he wouldn’t be kicked.  **“My…da,”**  he admitted.  **“Chase, I mean. That’s not the strangest part of it, though. Whenever I feel this way and I do go to see Chase—”**

“—it’s precisely when he needs you,” Schneep finished perceptively, earning a startled blink. Setting aside the stethoscope, he sighed lightly, drifting away for a moment or two to drag his desk chair over. Once he was seated, he drummed his fingers together, gathering his thoughts. “I know what this is, Jamie—is not a  _problem_ , per se. In fact, it can come quite in handy! Is untreatable, is unexplainable…Is simply something that develops naturally among us. You and Chase Brody have a soul bond.”

This earned another startled blink from his patient.  **“A—a what?”**

“A soul bond. We are all a part of Jack, yes? He took little bits of creativity and bundled them all together to make us before dropping us here. He made us in his image,” Schneep explained patiently. “When two of us spend a lot of time together, the bits of us that are similar become like little magnets and attract. We want to be with each other—not just emotionally, but in the sparks that make us who we are.

“The sparks of creativity stick and click, we get closer, and then we’re in tune. Is like a sixth sense—the more we’re drawn together, the more we can sense when we  _need_  to be drawn together. Is why Chase is almost always the first one to reach you when you’re hurt—not just because he loves you like a son but because he knew in the subconscious that something was wrong.”

 **“But—”**  Jameson sputtered slightly.  **“If we’re made to be like this, then why wasn’t I aware of it?”**

“ _You_  choose who you make this bond with,” Schneep pointed out. “You chose Chase, latching onto him as the one you want to spend time with. You could have chosen me! Ah-ah, don’t feel bad that you didn’t. This is the bond you’re meant to have, but everyone’s bonds are different. Some are weaker than the others so they’re less aware of them or don’t realize it until much, much later.”

**“How do you know so much about this?”**

A rueful laugh burst out of the doctor then as he leaned, tapping his chest indicatively. “How do you think?”

Jameson didn’t need any second guesses.  **“Jackieboy?”**

“It took us the long while to see it too,” Schneep mused, his face softening. “I would be in life-or-death surgery, bring the patient back from the brink, and as soon as I was out of decontamination shower, Jackie would call. He says he felt he  _had_  to. We thought it was good timing at first, then intuition, but by the time he starts whining about nausea whenever my coworkers make me mad, we know something’s changed.”

 **“That—that sounds awful,”**  Jameson murmured, wringing his hands in his lap restively.  **“When one of you suffers, _both_  of you do?”**

“Now, now, not always,” Schneep cautioned, brushing a hand through the air. “You do not suffer Chase’s depression, do you? Your body just lets you know when he’s feeling it. It’s only the  _big_  things that we both have to suffer for.”

Jameson’s next speech slide flickered somewhere in the middle realm instead of fully materializing and he swallowed hard. Was his next question really worth asking? Should he muster the courage or leave it at that for the doctor’s sake?

The doctor waited a few more beats, his air of expectance and intelligence waning into paler, sadder readiness.

He had to know.

**“Did—?”**

“Yes,” Schneep cut him off, his voice falling to a whisper. “He told me…He told me he fell out of the sky when it was happening. Is why his health suffered the most over those nine months.”

 **“So if anything like that ever happens to Chase…?”**  Something sick turned in Jameson’s stomach at the thought and he glanced away, barely suppressing a shudder. Schneep’s closest hand found his then, cover its back and squeezing his fingers hard—whether that was for Jameson’s comfort or his own, only he knew.

For a split second, Jameson was startlingly aware of how different their hands were. His were smaller, dotted in callouses and small scratches from his work in the garden and his practice of signs. The doctor’s hand was larger and longer, more practiced and elegant, but the longer he looked at it, the harder it was to find any area that hadn’t been scarred at some point in his life.

 _How many of those has Jackieboy endured with him?_  Jameson wondered numbly.

“Is why you need to go to Chase, if you can, when you feel he needs it,” Schneep instructed softly but firmly. “He needs  _you_ , Jamie, and you need him—just as much as Jackie and I need each other.”

* * *

Those words stuck with Jameson now more than ever as his eyes flew open, pupils blown wide in the darkness. His heart was extraordinarily loud in the silence as it banged against his sternum, pumping alarm and urgency into his veins.

Chase was awake. They both were. Could Chase sense that as keenly as he did?

Flinging aside his sheets, Jameson slipped to the floor, tugging apprehensively at the hem of his satiny nightshirt as he padded out into the hall. Chase’s door was still closed, but it did nothing to hinder the fear radiating from its occupant in waves.

Chase’s breath stuttered as the door creaked open.

 **“Da?”**  Jameson ventured uncertainly as he slipped inside, biting his lip as the light of his speech slide flickered against the tearstains streaked down Chase’s cheeks.  **“Da…are you well?”**  As soon as the words surfaced, he knew it was a stupid question and could have smacked himself for it. Chase managed a shuddery breath, hunching in on himself.

“…’m fine,” he mouthed miserably, barely audible as he leaned his face into his knees, clenching his eyes tightly shut. That was all it took for the burning in Jameson’s chest to swell and set his feet in motion.

As soon as he perched on the edge of the bed and his hand crept onto Chase’s arm, the older Ego lunged, dizzying him with the speed and desperation in his embrace. Jameson stiffened with a faint gasp as he was hauled in against Chase’s chest, but once a few stringent seconds had passed, he could hear the other’s heartbeat pulsing wildly against his ear.

Chase’s heart…echoing his own. The longer he listened, the tighter Chase’s grip on him became, the more he became aware of how his heart rate was calming. It was nowhere near normal, but it was slowing more and more as the vlogger held him close.

 _He needs me_.

Jameson’s own anxiety was starting to ease as well, leaving behind a tingly sensation of solidity, surety, and safety. Something heavy had settled into his core and his mind, weighing him into his position. Despite their tangled arms and bumping knees and fingers that were too tight on his back, he felt… secure, as if it made sense to be here and nowhere else. No part of the awkward position bothered him—or if it did, it was only a faint notion on the outskirts of his mind.

 _And I…I need him_.

If they were meant to suffer, they would do it together, completing each other where they were short and catching each other when the sky fell down.


End file.
